Your Tears Are My Rain
by Joywriter
Summary: After the war, Harry returns to complete his education and has a new appreciation for Professor Snape, who survived Nagini's snakebite.
1. Ch 1: A Telling Gaze

Harry and Snape are changed men after the war. (Snape survives; otherwise this story would be pointless). I plan to explore a relationship between the two of them. Based on the intriguing idea that Snape comes to love (but not sexually) Harry because he loves Lily.

The dynamics of their relationship in canon fascinates me, and ever since DH, I wondered what how their relationship would have changed had Snape lived.

Harry still saw Snape's memories, but Hermione managed to do enough for Snape to get him to Madam Pomfrey in time, so he survived Nagini's bite. (I mean, _come on_, Arthur Weasley survived Nagini's bite in OOTP)

Harry returns the following year to finish his education.

I intend this to be a mild Snarry fic, so a rating change will probably happen somewhere along the line. If it's not your cup of tea, then move along. I promise it won't hurt my feelings.

Canon compliant as much as possible, unless something interferes with my storyline.

No fixed idea where this is going, but have faith.

* * *

**Chapter 1 - A Telling Gaze**

Snape sat at the Head table on the first of September and watched as droves of students took their places along the four house tables. He was no longer Headmaster, and that suited him just fine. McGonagall had taken over the position, leaving Snape free to resume his post as Potions Master. After the previous year, Slughorn decided he wanted to go back to the comfort of retirement.

He had been exonerated for Dumbledore's death after a certain individual made it a point to clear him once the Ministry tried to throw him into Azkaban. The Ministry took Harry Potter very seriously, and even though he and the boy had not spoken or seen each other since that night back in June, Snape knew it had been Potter who had kept him from prison. While Snape was secretly grateful, he couldn't help but feel uneasy about it, nor did he feel comfortable knowing Harry had never returned his memories.

The Hall buzzed with cheerful banter. The entire wizarding world could breathe easier now that Voldemort was finally gone. His destructive touch would linger for many years, but now healing could finally begin.

Snape scanned the tables as he always did, looking for the pair of eyes he most wanted to see. He found himself anxious to see him, and repulsed by his desire to do so. But he didn't see them. Against his will, his heart sank a little. He was supposed to be here this term. Weasley and Miss Granger were already seated at the Gryffindor table.

_The brat probably has an even more distorted hero complex and wanted to make an entrance,_ Snape thought bitterly.

But no sooner had he completed the sentence in his mind did Harry walk through the large doors at the opposite end of the Hall, looking defeated and carrying a roll of parchment. Snape frowned as his eyes followed Harry to where he sat down next to Ron.

Though it pained him greatly to admit his own error, Harry didn't seem the least bit interested in the fact that he had saved countless lives and their world from a darkness from which they may have never recovered. He didn't seem to notice the hundreds of eyes that were riveted to him as he entered, or the hushed silence that fell upon the Hall.

The Sorting passed and several hopeful children joined their new houses. Once the feast came to an end, Harry took an early absence. He collected the roll of parchment he had with him and, for the first time that evening, cast his eyes over the Head table where they immediately fell upon Snape. Snape stiffened under his gaze. Harry had looked at him many times before with some mix of loathing and fear, but this was different. He looked neither hateful nor afraid. He appeared to not know what to think, but even from the fair distance that separated them, those brilliant eyes spoke volumes.

An almost imperceptible smile ghosted over Harry's lips before he turned and left. To the untrained eye, Harry would have appeared to be lost in the horde of students, but Snape knew where he was and followed his retreating figure until it disappeared into the shadows.

And he had a sinking feeling he knew exactly what that smile meant.


	2. Ch 2: Snape's Addiction

**Chapter 2 – Snape's Addiction**

Snape sat at his desk the following Monday before classes were to commence, the first of which was no less than seventh year Potions. He quickly scanned the short list of students who had qualified for and opted to take the subject. Among them was the saviour of the wizarding world.

Snape wondered if this was yet another confirmation that he had the worst luck around. He sighed heavily and pushed the paper away, wishing he could just disappear. He wasn't ready to face Potter, a boy who now knew everything he had been so eager to hide from him.

_Merlin only knows what he must think of me now,_ he thought, before quickly wondering why he even cared what Harry thought.

Slowly the students trickled in and sat down, not one of them acknowledging Snape, who was still sitting stoically behind his desk. Snape didn't look up until he felt the psychic pain of a gaze he knew all too well. Harry had arrived with Hermione, and they sat together at a table two rows back.

'I really implore that you not use that book again this year…' Hermione whispered to Harry, who was rummaging through his bag.

Snape's attention was caught by Hermione's words. Snape, pretending to not have heard a thing, continued to listen.

'Are you kidding?' Harry said. 'This book is the reason I can even take this class. And what's the difference anyway? Snape teaching us in person or through a book?'

Hermione seemed to have no valid argument for this, so instead, said, 'What if he catches you with it? He's not stupid, Harry. What it he takes it from you?'

'He knows I have it, and if he wants it back, I can't really stop him.'

Snape sat behind his desk, pretending to be reading as he listened to the pair talk. He noticed that Harry's voice had lost its boyish arrogance that was painfully reminiscent of his father. But he toyed with the idea of taking the text away from Potter and dismissing him from the class based on the fact that he had 'cheated' his way through sixth year Potions.

Someone near the back of the room sneezed, which brought Snape to his senses. Had he completely lost his mind? Sitting around, eavesdropping on a conversation involving Potter? So what if Harry seemed refined and mellow for a change? So what if the boy spoke of him without hatred or malice? He was done with Potter. He had paid his dues by watching over him and keeping his out of harm's way. But now, there wasn't a threat to a single hair on the boy's head. And it was high time to move on.

Snape stood up. This action alone silenced the hushed conversations that were taking place, and all eyes were riveted to him. Without preamble, he began the class. 'As you all undoubtedly know, you have all proven yourselves able Potion makers to have been granted my approval to take this class. As you all know, it is just as much an art as it is a science, and while I expect thorough scientific methods to be used, seventh year Potions is also an opportunity to apply six years of skill and refine the art of potion making. Not only will this year be a year of acquiring more advanced knowledge, but to also prove yourselves as true Potions makers by adding your own personal touches to your work'

With a wave of his wand, the day's assignment appeared on the board. 'I expect you all have retained last year's text, as it will be your primary resource.'

Harry opened the Prince's copy of _Advanced Potion Making_ and set to reading the assigned pages. Snape watched as he did, and for a moment, considered taking the book from him right then and there. However, Harry gazed up from the pages and pierced him with his emerald gaze. Snape stood frozen, his memory transporting him to a night a few months earlier when he had grabbed the boy and asked for what he thought was his last request. Snape felt his ears and cheeks flush.

There was something in those eyes that had never been there before, and while he had seen it before in Lily's, he still found it impossible to describe, and devastatingly impossible to resist.

Harry, who had fully expected to be denied use of the book, dropped his gaze back to it. Snape returned to his desk and sat down and wondered why could not bring himself to take it from the boy or expel him from his class.

--

That evening, Harry was sitting with Ron and Hermione beneath the beech tree by the lake, reveling in the freedom they had now that there were no more threats of Death Eaters and Voldemort. A gentle breeze blew across the grounds, ruffling the leaves and their papers.

'You're awfully quiet tonight, mate.' Ron remarked.

Harry absently drummed his fingers on the cover of _Advanced Potion Making._ 'Just thinking,' he replied.

'You've seemed out of sorts all day.'

Harry sighed. 'It's Snape. I'm just having a hard time dealing with… being around him again. After what I saw at the end of last term.' Harry had only showed the Ministry Snape's memories are far as his involvement with Dumbledore's death was concerned, and hadn't shared any others with a single soul. He had, however, told Ron and Hermione about them.

Hermione looked up from her text. 'Do you still have them? The memories?'

Harry nodded. 'He probably wants them back, though.'

'Well, take them to him.'

Harry picked up his books and headed off toward the castle.

'Where are you going?' Ron called after him.

'To take Snape's memories back.'

'I didn't mean right this instant,' Ron said.

'Don't worry, I see you guys later.'

Harry dropped his belongings off in the dormitory and retrieved the vial of silvery ethereal essence that contained Snape's thoughts. Pocketing it, he left Gryffindor tower and headed for the dungeon.

--

Snape had just sat down in his armchair when he heard a knock on the door. Sighing irritably and muttering something about hoodlums running around at all hours of the night, he strode to his chamber door and opened it. He caught the nasty comment on the tip of his tongue when he saw Harry standing on the other side.

'What could you possibly want at this time of night, Potter?' he said irritably, but not nearly as cruelly as he would have had it been anyone else.

'I came to return something to you.' Harry reached inside his robes and pulled out the vial. Harry noticed Snape's eyes grow a hint wider and saw a twitch in his jaw. Harry held it out, and Snape took it quickly. 'Is that all, Potter?'

Harry dropped his gaze to the stone floor. 'No,' he said nervously. 'I also want to say I'm sorry for the way I –'

'I don't need your pity,' Snape interjected in a snarling tone. 'Now get out. I don't want to see you here again outside of class.'

Slamming the door in Harry's face, Snape retreated into his chamber. Sitting down on his bed, he swirled the contents of the vial. He removed his wand and was about to place each one back into his mind when he decided against it. Instead, he went to a cupboard and removed Dumbledore's Pensieve. Emptying half of the contents into the basin and searching his own mind for certain memories, he added them to the mix before diving headlong into his past.

As he landed a short distance from his nine-year-old self in the park, he wondered why he kept doing this, over and over again. Seventeen years of reliving the same moments over and over only served to keep close something that could never be, and it was both the greatest pleasure and the worst torture.

But then he looked beyond himself and saw a beautiful little girl playing nearby, and he smiled as his vision became blurry by his own emotion. All other thoughts seemed to vanish as he walked over to the swing set. Her little eyes gleamed in the sunlight; her laughter was the one sound that could turn his heart's perpetual winter to spring.

_This is why I do this_, he thought.


	3. Ch 3: An Unexpected Task

**Chapter 3 – An Unexpected Task**

Harry and Hermione were sitting through Potions class a few days before Halloween working on Snape's latest and most challenging assignment to date. However, Snape had left the room right after he had given the class the lesson and had not yet returned. Every movement in the room caught Harry's attention, for he was hoping he'd come back.

Harry mentally shook his head at the irony of such a thought. Harry could tell that the war had changed the once sullen and perpetually angry Potions professor. While he was still a hard man to like, there seemed something sadder about him these days. Harry thought these things as he followed the directions in his book, and wondered if perhaps Snape's aura of sadness was only his pity projected onto Snape due to what he saw in his memories. Maybe Snape hadn't really changed at all.

'Okay, I think it's time to put the powdered bicorn horn in,' Hermione announced, rousing Harry from his daydreaming. He took the fine silver dust and sprinkled it into the cauldron, and the mixture within changed from fire red to deep cerulean.

Harry and Hermione smiled, knowing they had once again been successful. Harry himself felt particularly good, knowing that he at least wasn't being a constant source of aggravation anymore.

And while this was true concerning his behaviour as a student, Harry didn't realize just how wrong he was in so many other ways.

--

Severus closed the Headmistress's door behind him, hovering emotionally somewhere between dread and confusion. He swept silently through the deserted hallways and made his way back to the dungeons, his mind reeling.

Not even the fact that that he returned to find half the class finished made him feel any better. Instead, he ignored the lot of them and sat at his desk, immersing himself in the day's rather mundane copy of the Prophet.

Harry, who had been talking quietly with Hermione, had watched him storm in and knew that wherever he had been had not left him in a good mood. He had done as Snape had asked and had not spoken to him in two months since he had been unceremoniously banished from the dungeons save for class. Harry watched him reading the paper, and found it hard to believe that Snape really did hate him as much as he had always let on.

The bell rang and the class filed out after passing in their potion samples for grading. Harry placed his and Hermione's on the desk when Snape's eyes peeled themselves from the newsprint and bore into his.

'I need a word with you, Potter,' he said harshly. 'Now.'

Hermione nodded to him and left. The classroom was empty, and Harry stood before Snape, waiting for him to speak.

Snape, however, seemed to be battling within himself, for he appeared deeply uneasy. His long thin fingers intertwined as they rested on his desk.

'Headmistress McGonagall has informed me of a less than welcome piece of news,' Snape began bitterly. 'And for some unfathomable reason, she has left it to me to inform you of it.'

Snape got up from his chair and walked over to the small window, and stood in the weak beams of light that filtered down from above.

'The ministry has decided that they want you and I to give a speech at the end of November regarding our roles in the war.'

Snape turned around and looked at Harry, fully expecting to see a grin on his face at the prospect of more publicity. However, he was met by the sight of a tired and defeated-looking young man.

'Well, it seems we are of the same mind,' Snape said.

'Sir, is there any way we can avoid this? I would really not have to relive any of that again.'

'I don't want to do this any more than I want to set my hair on fire,' spat Snape, 'but it appears we have little say in the matter. The Minister is adamant, and has been so for over a month now.'

'Well, what are we supposed to do, exactly?' Harry asked, not entirely sure what the point of it was.

'On November 30th we are expected to give a speech in London to a crowd of Merlin knows how many people about how our actions led to the fall of the Dark Lord.'

'But there were so many people that helped bring him down!' Harry said adamantly. 'Why single the two of us out?'

Snape snorted. 'Well, surely Potter, you have figured out why you are being targeted, seeing as how you managed to pull off the one thing that no one believed was possible. And I…' Snape's voice trailed off.

'… was only one to turn against Voldemort and survive,' Harry finished.

'Something like that,' Snape said dismissively. 'In light of this task that we've been unwillingly thrust into, you will come to my classroom on Friday evenings and we will prepare this inane discourse.'

Harry narrowed his eyes. 'We're doing this together?'

'While I don't relish the idea, I'd rather suffer through four evenings in your presence than to avoid it and be humiliated by something tactless you say to all of the wizarding world.'

Harry smiled in spite of himself and dropped his gaze to the stone floor.

'You find the thought of my humiliation amusing?' Snape said shortly.

'Of course not,' Harry replied, lifting his head again to meet Snape's dark gaze. 'It's just that even now, you still think I'd do something to hurt you.'

Snape quickly looked away, feeling his cheeks burn. 'It's a chance I'm not willing to take. Now get out and don't return until tomorrow night at seven.'

'All right. Good day, sir.'

With that, Harry left Snape standing near the window and returned to find Hermione and Ron in the Gryffindor tower. Snape, however, remained in his office, cursing the ministry for putting him in this terrible situation, but at the same time, he grudgingly admitted that he would, at least, get to see Harry, and perhaps better understand why he was more than favourable to him these days.

--

Harry wasn't sure if he was looking forward to Friday evenings with Snape or not. But all too soon, it was time to begin the first meeting. He arrived at Snape's office to find that the door was slightly ajar, and let himself in. Snape, however, was not present. Harry sat down in the front row near his desk and waited, wondering how a man who placed so much importance on punctuality would violate his own enforcement of it.

Surely whatever is was that was keeping Snape was valid, so Harry waited until he finally heard footsteps approaching not from the classroom door, but from the adjacent quarters that were Snape's rooms.

Harry was unsure what to make of the sight that met him. While nothing on a superficial level seemed out of the ordinary, there was something slightly off about Snape as he took his place behind his desk. Harry, having been in numerous stare-downs with the dreaded professor, noticed that he seemed to be deliberately avoiding his gaze. He was always poised and carried himself well, but Snape had all but slinked into the room and unceremoniously sat down.

After extracting a quill and a piece of parchment from his top drawer, Snape finally spoke. 'I apologize for being late. Now, about this proposed speech we are to give. While I cannot control what you decide to say, I would advise you to not play into their hands and let their praise, and in some cases, worship -' he added bitterly '- go to your head. I believe it is best to stick to facts and keep it as tolerable as possible.'

'I see no problem with that,' Harry concurred. 'I never wanted all the attention I've gotten, and I'm not about to try to attract more. I know you don't believe me,' Harry said when Snape gave him a scathing look. 'But it's the truth, sir.'

For a long moment, the two men stared at each other. Suddenly, an unexpected flush seemed to sweep over Snape's pale features, and he turned his gaze to his parchment. 'I am also going to make one request, and I fully expect you to comply.'

Harry nodded, even though he didn't yet know what it was. It seemed that Snape needed some reassurance before he came out and voiced his thoughts.

Snape lifted his gaze and held Harry's, and the calm voice was sharp and acerbic. 'You are not to utter a single word about what you saw in my memories as far as your mother is concerned.'

Harry was frozen from shock, since this had been the first time Snape had directly spoke to him about Lily, and the emotion that writhed just beneath the semblance of order was overwhelming. Snape's gazed had not eased, and Harry was certain Snape was silently begging him to comply.

Harry nodded. 'You have my word.'

Snape seemed satisfied, and went on as though nothing had transpired. 'Now, I have spoken with Headmistress McGonagall regarding the specifics of this oration, and we are permitted as much time as we feel we need. I personally, am going to strive for the short side of five minutes. While I am not going to write your speech for you, I advise you to begin wherever it is you feel most relevant to the war, such as the moment or event in which you realized you alone had been singled out to finish the Dark Lord.'

For Harry, this moment was as obvious as the scar on his forehead. 'When Dumbledore showed me the prophecy,' Harry said, though unintentionally.

Snape flinched in his seat. Harry's eyes went wide. 'I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to…'

'As I was saying,' said Snape, struggling to maintain his decorum, 'Use whatever event you choose as your starting point, and move forward from there. Try to keep some semblance of chronological progression to your speech as well, for the benefit of those without the gift of abundant intellect.'

Harry nodded, taking in Snape's words as he spoke.

'Sir?' Harry asked tentatively. 'May I ask where you plan to begin your speech?'

Snape glowered at him. 'Just because I have given up my time to assist you in avoiding making a mockery of all we fought for does not mean I am about to divulge my personal history to you.'

Harry considered challenging this, and decided to, consequences be damned. 'It seems a fairly benign question, and considering all the other things I know about you, your answering could hardly be more personal.'

For once, Harry had rendered speechless the quick-witted potions master. For several moments, Snape simply sat and stared incredulously at Harry. 'Are you blackmailing me, Potter?'

'No, sir. Just curious,' Harry replied.

'You, along with the rest of the wizarding world, will find out on the 30th of November. Now dispense with your frivolous questions or you will find yourself back here on Saturdays for detention.'

Harry conceded, and decided it best not to push his luck any more for one day.

'I expect you to have your first draft completed by next Friday,' Snape said as he wrote on his parchment in tiny, cramped handwriting. 'You may go for now.'

Harry rose from his desk and made his way to the door, hesitating only long enough to say 'Goodnight, Professor' before taking his leave.


	4. Ch 4: A Bold Request

Thanks to everyone who has been reading this story. Updates are spaced apart because I'm having a bit of trouble deciding where I want this to go, but I think it's finally clear to me now. If anything, this is becoming a Snape/Lily story and a Snape/Harry friendship with only a hint of something more, which I think will be more effective in the long run.

And thanks for your reviews, on this and all my other fics.

* * *

**Chapter 4 – A Bold Request**

Between a deluge of homework, Quidditch practice, and the fact he would be facing the entire wizarding world in less than a month, Harry was on a slow decline. He had told Ron and Hermione about the speech. Ron was sympathetic, but Hermione encouraged him, saying it was his chance to tell his story his way and set the record straight.

His spirits were even worse the morning when two pictures of himself and Snape were on the front page of the Prophet, announcing their speech to the public.

'Great,' Harry said, throwing the paper back onto the table.His eyes roved the Head Table and landed on Snape, who looked even more sour than usual.

'What does it matter now?' Harry asked Hermione in a rather harsh tone. 'It's over, he's gone. Why can't everyone just be happy with that?'

'People want to know what you went through to save them,' she said between bites of cereal. 'No matter how you choose to look at it, you're a hero. Snape too, and the public is hungry for information about the two people who saved them.'

'Maybe so, but given what Snape and I had to endure, we don't owe anyone anything…'

Harry didn't realize just how loudly he was talking, nor did he realize that Snape had long since mastered lip reading. Snape stared as inconspicuously as he could at the young Gryffindor as he spoke, and took comfort in knowing that, of all the things Harry was, at least he wasn't a liar.

--

Friday evening came around, and once again, Snape had lost track of time. He stumbled backwards out of the Pensieve at five after seven. Taking care to lock his door and cast the charm to take the puffiness from his eyes, he hurried out to meet Harry, who was sitting at a front row desk.

'I expect you have completed the first draft of your speech like I asked,' Snape said without preamble or salutation as he sat down behind his desk.

'Yes, sir,' Harry replied somewhat wearily, and he sighed.

Snape, picking up on Harry's non-verbal cues, said, 'I know this is difficult, Potter. I can't say that I enjoyed writing my first draft either, but we may as well do this with dignity and get it over with as painlessly as possible.'

An odd sensation of comfort washed over Harry at Snape's reassurance, and he wasn't sure quite how to feel. Harry nodded. 'At least I'm not going through this alone.'

Snape cleared his throat and seemed to be fascinated by the wood grain of his desk top. 'You were never alone, Potter.'

For a moment, Harry thought Snape meant that he had been watching over him and was just about to open his mouth to thank him when Snape spoke again. 'The entire wizarding world is enamored with you, and has been for 16 years. You have Miss Granger and Mr Weasley. The Weasley family has all but adopted you. Countless people have gone to extreme lengths to ensure your safety. No, Potter,' Snape said bitterly as he strode over to a cabinet on the far wall. 'You haven't the slightest inkling as to what it's like to be alone.'

Harry's gaze followed Snape. 'It seems all I know how to do is make you hate me even more.'

'I don't hate –' Snape said, but caught himself once he realized what he was saying.

'What did you say?' Harry asked, sitting up in his seat.

Snape sighed, still facing away from Harry. 'I don't hate you, Potter. I just –' his voice trailed off. 'I have nothing more to say about the matter,' he said abruptly, returning to his desk. 'Read your speech to me.'

Harry complied, and read what he had written. Upon completion, he waited for Snape's usual barrage of insults to crumble the entire thing. At first, he was met only by silence. Harry had learned long ago that Snape's silence was not a bad sign.

Finally, he said, 'That's not as bad as it might have been,' and he seemed genuinely surprised. 'I am pleased to see you are taking this endeavour and my requests seriously.'

'Is this a compliment from Professor Snape?' Harry said lightheartedly.

Snape glared at him. 'Your transformation astounds me, Potter. While you have at last learned some semblance of respect, you are still as impertinent as ever.'

'I just think you should smile, Professor.'

'Perhaps if I had a reason, I would, but until then, you are to rewrite your speech, making minor corrections to sentences you feel need improvement. And if that is all, you are dismissed.'

'You aren't going to read yours?' Harry asked incredulously.

'No, I am not.'

'I thought we were doing this together.'

'You seem to forget that I am merely helping you to avoid embarrassing me –'

'So this is all about you?'

'Do not interrupt me, Potter,' Snape snarled. 'And for your backtalk, you've just earned yourself detention tomorrow night at seven.'

Without a word, Harry walked to the door and left.

--

At seven the next night he found himself back in the gloom of the professor's dungeon, waiting for his punishment. Snape emerged from his office. 'Follow me,' he said.

Harry followed Snape to the storeroom that looked more like an apothecary. On the workbench sat a several large containers filled with various potion ingredients. 'These just arrived this afternoon, and you will assist me in preparing them for storage.'

Snape retrieved two pairs of gloves and knives. 'Put these on,' he said handing the gloves to Harry. 'Start with these,' he pointed to a container with large root-like plants sticking out haphazardly. 'These need to be diced and put into those jars containing the blue liquid,' he explained, pointing to the shelves on the wall. 'Simple enough, I hope.'

'Yes, no problem, sir.'

Snape began working further down the table and they worked in silence. More often than not, he would steal glances of Snape as he worked meticulously. What was it about this man that made him feel… he wasn't sure how to define what he felt, because it was complicated. Grateful. Yes, he was definitely grateful for Snape's protection that had existed around him. And for that he felt that he owed Snape a debt. But then Harry remembered that reel of memories that played in his mind, even though he had returned them to Snape. The man that stood before him had been hurt in a way he prayed he never would have to experience. And as Harry thought about it, he realized that whatever he was, whoever he was, Snape was motivated by one thing, and one thing alone.

His love for Lily.

'You're not here to slack off, Potter, now get to work or you'll be back here again tomorrow night.'

Snape's words brought him out of his reverie. 'Sorry.'

'Were you daydreaming?' Snape asked, a hint of mockery in his acerbic voice.

'Not really, just thinking.'

'In that case, you need to learn how to multitask.'

Harry had a sudden urge to tell Snape exactly what he was thinking, because finally it all made sense.

'I think I figured out what you meant yesterday when you said you didn't hate me.'

Snape continued working as though he had heard nothing, but Harry was not dissuaded.

'You hate me not because of who I am, but because of what I am.'

'Potter, you're straying toward dangerous territory,' Snape warned.

'I finally understand,' Harry said. 'You hate the fact that I am the son of someone you hated and someone you –'

'DON'T say another word, Potter!' Snape spat, slamming his knife onto the table with such force that a jar fell onto the floor and broke. Snape stared at Harry. 'What exactly are you trying to accomplish? Do you not think that I know perfectly well why I feel the way I do?' Snape struggled to maintain his composure, but it appeared he was losing the battle against his emotions. His dark eyes glistened with his pain and he looked away in shame.

Harry set aside his gloves and knife and went to Snape, whose breathing had become shallow. His body shook, and Harry didn't know what to do, but overwhelming instinct told him to just reach out to him. Rounding on Snape so they were face to face, Harry pulled him into his arms.

Harry expected him to resist, to protest, to order him from his presence, but he wasn't met by any of that. 'What are you doing?' Snape asked feebly, his voice thick with tears.

Harry, too, wondered what he was doing. Surely this bordered on insane. 'Shhh,' he said soothingly as he rested his head against Snape's. Harry held the thin form of Severus Snape as he was reduced to sobs that consumed him. Harry, still overwhelmed by the moment's oddness and intensity, stroked his long black hair reassuringly.

'It's okay, Prof – Severus,' Harry said, feeling formality had long since flown out the window. He wasn't comforting a teacher, he was comforting a broken man. 'I'm so sorry,' Harry said, and he too, began to weep.

Finally, Snape brought his arms up and embraced Harry, which Harry hadn't expected. As he stood there, Harry wondered how many times Snape had cried alone, with no one to comfort him.

The moments went on as the two men stood together in the storeroom, everyone and everything forgotten save for the sting of grief that, for Snape, never seemed to heal.

Suddenly, Snape's body tensed up and Harry let go. 'I think that will do for tonight, Potter,' Snape said. 'You may go.'

'Are you okay, sir?'

'Yes, I'm fine,' Snape said, wiping his eyes and abruptly returning to his work. 'Go. Now. And what transpired here goes no further than this room. Understood?'

Harry nodded. 'Of course.'

Harry left, leaving Snape feeling a right fool. He swore at himself for his weakness, for breaking down in front of a student. But the boy was no ordinary student. Harry knew the truth about him – the hideous, ugly, and unchangeable truth, and he didn't know if he could bear it. Not only that, but Harry was both a blessing and a curse, and Snape didn't know how to feel about him anymore.

Unable to concentrate any longer on his task, he returned to his room where he fell into a restless sleep.

--

Harry sat through Potions with Hermione the following day, and noticed that Snape seemed to be ignoring him. In all of Harry's previous years, Snape seemed to have Harry radar, and never passed up the chance to torment him and humiliate him. That he was used to, but being ignored was a bit unnerving, and while he understood why, it didn't make him feel any better.

After class, Harry lingered behind the other students, deliberately stalling. 'Move along, Potter,' Snape said without looking up from the papers he was grading.

Harry approached Snape's desk. 'Sir, I want to talk to you about something.'

'Do be quick,' he said indifferently.

Harry set his books down on the desk behind him. His pulse raced. 'You have something I want.'

Snape looked up from the papers. 'I beg your pardon?'

'You have something I want,' Harry repeated.

'I heard you the first time,' Snape spat, 'and I assure you, I have nothing of yours.'

'I didn't say you have something of mine, sir. But you are the only one who can help me.'

'Well, out with it.'

Harry inhaled deeply. He was afraid of the kind of response he would get. 'I would like you to show me more memories of my mother.'

If it was possible for Snape to turn even paler, he did. He stared at Harry as though he had gone mad. He set his quill into the inkwell. 'Have you completely taken leave of your senses, Potter?'

'No.'

'I beg to differ.'

'But you gave me your memories before –'

Snape cast a spell on the classroom door, which slammed shut. Snape rounded on Harry in a low and dangerous tone. His eyes glittered with rage. 'I didn't plan on living, you stupid boy! Had I known I would be here today, I never would have given you anything. You have been a thorn in my side just as your father before you…'

Harry tried to remain calm as Snape scorned him. 'Sir, please, I don't want to upset you –'

'So you claim,' Snape interjected, 'yet you seem relentless in drudging up the very topic that causes me the most grief, so forgive me if I don't believe your intentions are innocent.'

'But you are the one who loves her. You have the most detailed memories of her.' Harry was nearly on the brink of tears. 'Please, sir, you are the only person who can help me know my mother.'

Snape sat back in his chair and rubbed his temples. He was in an awkward situation. On one hand, he was in no hurry to make himself even more vulnerable to Harry, but on the other, Lily probably would have wanted it. Harry could tell he was torn.

Finally he compromised and said, 'I'll have to think about it. But I don't want to hear another word about it from you,' he added sharply.

Harry smiled. 'Thank you.'

And with that, Harry went to join his friends for an outing to Hogsmeade, leaving Snape to wonder just how much longer he'd be able to hold up beneath his true feelings for The Boy Who Lived.


	5. Ch 5: A Return To Yesterday

Hey everyone, thanks for the reviews. I really like this chapter. I've taken a few liberties, but that's what fanfiction is for!

Contains a bit of foul language.

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**Chapter 5 – A Return To Yesterday**

Just as Snape asked, Harry had not mentioned the memories again, and he was growing impatient out of the fear that Snape was conveniently trying to forget the request. During their final meeting, however, Snape finally brought it up.

'Thanks for all your help with my speech, Professor,' Harry said, rolling up his parchment at the end of their meeting.

Snape, not being accustomed to being thanked, tensed up as he said, 'You're welcome. I trust you will adhere to it come time to deliver it.'

'I will,' Harry replied as he gathered his things to leave. 'Goodnight Professor.'

Harry made it to the door when Snape called him back. 'Potter, resume your seat.'

Harry did as he was told. Snape sat at his desk, looking less than thrilled, but not angry.

A long silence ensued, and Snape seemed to be weighing his words carefully. 'I've considered your request regarding your mother,' he said, 'and while every fiber of my being wants nothing to do with it, I think she would have wanted me to do this for you. And Merlin knows I would do whatever it takes to honour her.'

Harry's eyes lit up, and Snape had to look away from him. 'Really? I – I don't know what to say.'

'May I suggest, "Thank you Professor for making a complete fool of yourself"', he said sarcastically.

'I don't see it that way,' Harry said. 'But yes, thank you. When will you show them to me?' he asked without preamble, nearly on the edge of his seat.

Snape sighed. 'Do you have prior engagements tonight?'

'No.'

Snape stood up. 'Then wait here. I'll return in a moment.' He turned on his heal and disappeared into the hall that led to his living quarters.

Harry, meanwhile, was nearly beside himself with excitement. His entire body trembled as he waited for Snape to come back. He was suddenly struck by the oddity of the situation, but it was overshadowed by his gratitude. Snape was not obligated to do any of this, and the fact that he was opening up his past to him was incredibly moving to Harry.

Suddenly Snape emerged carrying Dumbledore's Pensieve. It was empty, and he placed it upon his desk and sat down.

'This may take a few moments,' Snape said. Concentrating, he pressed the tip of his wand to his temple and removed a long silver-blue strand and guided the ethereal substance into the basin. Harry watched as Snape explored his memory, pausing every now and then to extract a moment in time. A few times he raised his wand, but seemed to change his mind.

Finally, after removing several memories, and having appeared conflicted about the final memory he had added, Snape moved the basin forward. 'That should do,' he said.

Harry stared at it, and then looked to Snape. 'I want you to come with me.'

'Very well,' Snape sighed. 'After you.'

Harry, having had many previous encounters with the Pensieve, pressed his face into the swirling mist and tumbled headlong into the past, his feet landing on the grass of a familiar park. The adult Snape stood beside him, looking slightly uncomfortable.

Harry noticed that they were in the park where Snape and Lily had first met. Only this time, Petunia was nowhere in sight.

A nine-year-old Lily sat on an old swing as Snape pushed her, her long red hair trailing behind her in the wind. She was squealing with delight as she soared higher with each push. Harry moved in closer to the children as they played, and Snape followed behind at a distance.

'Let go, Lily,' Snape said. 'Fly for me.'

After his final push, Lily let go of the swings and seemed to float through the air before coming back down to the ground, landing light as a feather. Snape's young face was wild with excitement as he watched her. 'Can you do that?' Lily asked.

'Nah,' he said. 'But watch this…'

He picked up a fallen leaf and held it tightly in his hand. Slowly, it blossomed into a white lily. He smiled and handed it to her.

She tucked it behind her ear.

The scene changed. They were now sitting on a bench a little ways off. 'What did your parents say about this weekend?' Lily asked.

'They don't care,' Snape said a bit dejectedly. 'I'll be there, though, even if they change their minds.' He scuffed the bottom of his worn out sneakers on the dirt. 'I hope you like what I got for you.'

The scene reformed. They were now in a large and elegant sitting room with what Harry soon realized were his maternal grandparents. Lily and Snape, who still wore his short jeans and odd shirt, sat side-by-side on a loveseat and Petunia sat off in a chair by herself, looking sour and angry.

'I don't see why she should get presents just for being a _witch_,' Petunia scowled.

Snape shot her a dirty look. Petunia stuck out her tongue at him.

'Come on honey,' her mother said. 'Be supportive of your sister.'

Petunia only crossed her arms and frowned some more.

Lily, however, was surrounded by gifts and beamed with happiness.

The scene changed again, this time Lily and Snape were alone in the den watching TV. Snape, however, looked anxious. He reached into his pocket and brought out a small box with a red ribbon tied around it. 'Here,' he said, passing it to Lily. 'I didn't want to give it to you in front of everyone.'

Lily slid the bow off and opened it. Inside was a silver necklace with a pendent of a butterfly with a topaz stone in the center. Lily gasped. 'This is so pretty, Sev! Where did you get it?'

Snape turned red. 'I'd rather not say.'

'You didn't steal it, did you?'

'No.'

'Then where did you get it?'

After a moment, he said, 'Mum found it and she said you might like it.' Harry got the impression that Snape was lying.

Lily smiled. 'Thank you so much.' She put it on and then gave Snape a hug before turning her attention back to the TV. Snape, it seemed, looked rather pleased with himself, and didn't seem to care what was on TV.

The scene changed again. This time he and Snape followed the pair as they walked down a wooded trail together.

'Are you sure it's safe for you to stay there? Mum and dad said you can come live with us if you're scared of your dad.'

'It's okay, Lily. Soon enough we'll be at school, and I won't have to see him.'

'Yeah, but look at your eyes! He's hurt you!'

'It doesn't matter,' Snape said dismissively.

Harry passed the children to get a better look at young Snape, who had two very bruised and swollen eyes.

Suddenly, they stopped. 'Come here,' Lily said. She cupped Snape's face in her hands. 'Close your eyes.'

'What are you doing?' he asked.

She placed several gentle kisses on his bruises. 'My mum says that when you kiss a hurt it makes it better.'

Snape scoffed and muttered something about Muggle remedies, but he didn't object to Lily's kisses. Harry smiled, and he glanced up to see adult Snape smiling sadly.

The scene reformed, and they were now sitting beside a frozen river in the sunlight. 'Aren't you excited for Christmas?' Lily asked.

'Not really,' Snape said. Lily seemed taken aback.

'How can you not be excited?'

'We don't celebrate Christmas,' he said, picking up snow in his mittens.

'Wizards don't celebrate Christmas?' Lily asked, rather alarmed.

'Sure they do. My family doesn't, though.'

'Why?'

'Who knows.' Snape kept digging in the snow with his hands.

'Why don't you come over to our house for Christmas? I'll ask mum and dad if you can.'

They were now back at the Evans' house, which was elaborately decorated for the holidays. Snape and Lily were sitting beneath the Christmas tree late at night, watching the lights change colour in the darkness. Snape was dressed in a pair of blue pajamas that fit properly and his hair was wet from a bath.

'Thanks, Lily,' he said.

'For what?' she asked.

'For getting your parents to let me come here.'

She smiled. 'You're welcome. We got you presents and everything!'

Snape seemed to be on the brink of tears, but managed to stifle them before Lily noticed.

They continued to watch the lights when suddenly Lily asked, 'Do you know what mistletoe is?'

'No,' he replied. 'What is it?'

She pointed to the doorframe where it was suspended.

'What's it for?' Snape asked.

'Well, mum says that you're supposed to stand underneath it, and the other person is supposed to kiss you. I've seen mum and dad do it, and it seems to work. Do you want to try it?'

Snape didn't answer, but Lily jumped up and stood beneath it. 'C'mon, Sev,' she urged. 'Just once.'

Snape got up and walked toward her. They stood together beneath the doorframe, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

'I don't think it's working,' Snape said seriously.

Lily giggled, and she leaned in slowly to give him a quick kiss.

'Well, then, I guess it does work,' Snape said with a smile.

The scene dissolved and now they were in the Evans' backyard building a snowman.

'And Muggles find this fun?' Snape asked. He was on his knees, struggling to push a ball of snow several times his size.

Lily laughed at the sight of Snape exerting himself, and he simply gave up and laid down in the snow. 'Of course its fun,' she said. 'You've never built a snowman before?'

'No,' he said, and Lily started laughing again.

'What's so funny?' he asked.

'You look funny in that hat,' she said.

She was quite right – Snape's long black hair protruded out from under a tacky lime green and hot pink hat, and a large puffball sat on the top of his head. It was pulled down too low and hid his eyes.

'You're the one who handed it to me!' Snape retorted indignantly, but he smiled in spite of himself. He loved to hear her laugh, even if at his own expense.

Lily threw a small snowball at him, and within moments, they were in a full-blown snow fight.

The scene reformed. It was still winter, and Snape was ringing the doorbell to the Evans' home. He wasn't wearing a hat or mitts or a proper coat, and his exposed skin was deep red and looked raw. He stood on the doorstep, shivering in the sharp wind.

Suddenly, Mrs. Evans came to the door. 'Severus!' she said in half surprise, half horror. 'What are you doing out in this weather like this? Come in before you catch your death!'

'I want to talk to Lily. Is she home?' he asked, as he basked in the warmth of the house.

'Yes, she's in the den. Do you want some hot chocolate to help warm you up?'

'Yes, please,' he said as he made his way through the hall.

Snape heard the TV, and found Lily sitting on the couch. She looked up and smiled. 'Sev! What you are doing here?'

'I have something for you,' he said, pulling a small bag from his jeans pocket. He sat on the couch and arranged what looked like nine small reddish buds on the upholstery. Lily watched as he took each of them in his hand one by one, making them grow into nine red roses. Lily watched in amazement as he concentrated on his magic and made the buds bloom. Once finished, he handed them to Lily. 'Happy Valentine's Day,' he said. 'One rose for this year, and one for every year I missed.'

Lily beamed at him and hugged him, but she recoiled when she realized how cold his cheek was.

'Why are you so cold?' she asked.

'I walked here,' he said.

'Just to give me these? You could get sick,' she said in concern.

'I don't care. I knew you'd like them.'

She smelled the roses and closed her eyes as she breathed in the heavenly smell. 'Wait here,' she said.

Taking her roses with her, she disappeared and returned a few moments later with an envelope. 'This is for you,' she said, handing it to him.

He opened it, taking care not to rip the paper too badly. He removed a small card on which Lily had drawn and coloured a picture of them playing together in the sun. Beneath the picture, she had written 'Forever Best Friends.' Snape smiled and opened the card. Harry bent over young Snape to read what it said.

_Roses are red,  
__Violets are blue  
__I know you hate flowers_  
_But I love you!_

_Happy Valentine's Day, Sev!_

_Love Lily_

Harry smiled and watched as the two children hugged each other.

'Does Valentine's have a mistletoe too?' Snape asked hopefully.

Lily smiled. 'No, but I don't think it matters.' She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

The scene reformed, and Snape was alone in his bedroom. He took the Valentine from his pocket and stared at it for several long moments before tucking it under his mattress.

The scene changed, and now they were a bit older. Snape was walking through the courtyard at Hogwarts looking alarmed. He could hear someone crying in the deserted grounds, but couldn't see anyone.

'Lily,' he called out. 'Where are you?'

'I'm over here,' she sobbed.

Following her voice, he walked into a deep shadow cast by the castle and found Lily sitting on a stone bench. 'What happened?' he asked.

Lily tried to gain control before speaking. 'I talked to Dumbledore earlier. He said that my mum…' her voice trailed off. Snape took her hand in his. 'My mum died.'

Snape moved in closer and drew her into a hug, much the way Harry had done to Snape a few weeks earlier. She leaned in and cried on his shoulder. 'What am I going to do?' she wept.

'You have your dad,' he said, and Harry noticed that his words sounded strange, like Snape was unfamiliar with expressing anything good about fathers. 'And you have me. You'll always have me.'

Lily clung to Snape, but said nothing. She continued to cry as he rubbed her back. 'Don't cry, Lily. Please don't cry,' he said, almost desperately, appearing to be on the verge of tears himself. 'I'm sorry about your mum.'

The scene changed, and now they seemed to be hiding in the library after hours. 'Are you gonna be okay?' he asked.

She wiped her eyes. 'Yeah, I think so. Thanks for coming out there. I really needed to talk to you.'

'I'd do anything for you,' Snape said, his gaze unwavering from Lily's tear-stained face and her shiny green eyes.

'You know, it really hurts to watch you cry,' he said shyly and turned red. 'When you cry, I'm right there with you, and it feels like… like I'm standing in the saddest rainfall. I miss your smiles.'

She smiled. 'I'm sorry, Sev. I don't like feeling this way either, but I'm trying… where do you think she is now?'

'She's in a good place, Lily. You'll see her again someday.'

'I don't know what I'd do without you,' she said as they left to return to their dormitories.

The scene changed again, and this time, they were at a Halloween party. Snape and Lily had just entered, but they were now about fifteen years old. Neither one was in costume. There were trays upon trays of sweets on tables along one wall, and someone had gone to a lot of trouble to decorate the room in orange, black, and white. Music was issuing from somewhere that couldn't be seen, and the party was alive with excited banter.

From nowhere, Slughorn appeared. 'Ah! My two Potions geniuses!' he said, patting them each on the back. 'Do enjoy yourselves. The night is young!' And just as quickly as he had appeared, he was gone off to greet the other arrivals.

Snape and Lily sat down on a small sofa together. They watched as a group of Ravenclaws showed up, many of whom wore royal blue gowns and masks. Once they parted ways, both Snape and Lily's hearts sank upon seeing who was behind them.

James Potter.

'What's that idiot doing here?' Snape asked crossly, his brow furrowed in a deep frown.

'Slughorn probably saw the last Quidditch match,' said Lily tastelessly.

'I'd like to Imperius his sorry ass,' said Snape bitterly. 'Then we'd see just how great a Quidditch player he is.'

'Sev! Don't even joke about that!' Lily said.

Snape turned to her. 'You wouldn't want to see him make a jackass of himself, even more so that he does on his own?'

Lily smirked. 'Yeah, just not with the Imperius curse.'

A clear look of mischief crossed Snape's features. 'If you really want to see it, I can arrange it.'

'Don't give him the satisfaction of making him the focus of anything you do. Plus, I don't want you to get expelled. Potter's not worth it.'

'Evening, Evans,' said James. They had been so engrossed in their conversation that they hadn't noticed him approaching. 'You want to come spend the evening with a real man?'

Lily raised an eyebrow at him. 'I really hope you don't mean yourself.'

'Well, I certainly don't mean Snivelly here,' he said, savouring the pleasure of degrading Snape in front of Lily.

'Isn't there a Snitch somewhere you should go catch?' Snape asked, his rage rising under his ruse of forced calm.

'What do you see in this jerk?' James asked, ignoring Snape. 'Why are you wasting your time with someone who doesn't appreciate you for who you are?'

'Oh, and in suppose you appreciate me,' said Lily, rolling her eyes.

'I do,' he said. 'So, how about it? Will you come spend the evening with me?'

Snape stood up. 'She's not interested, Potter, now back off.'

'Was I talking to you, Snivellus?' James said sharply.

'I don't care if you are or not. I'm talking to you,' Snape said, 'Just because every other female things your hot shit doesn't mean Lily does. What ignoramus is impressed by an egocentric prick just because he can show off on a broomstick? Well, I've got a suggestion of where you can shove it –'

'Stop!' Lily said, coming between Snape and James. James had drawn his wand. 'Come on, Sev. He's not worth it.'

Lily pulled Snape along by the arm while he continued to glower at James. Several people were staring at them. They stepped into the dungeon corridor, and before the door slammed shut behind them, they heard James say in a singsong voice, 'See ya, Snivellus!'

Snape was shaking with rage as he and Lily walked along the cold hallway. Once well away from the dungeons, they stopped in an empty corridor.

'I hate him so much,' Lily fumed. 'I wish he'd just leave us alone.'

Lily looked at Snape, who had turned his attention out the window. She put a hand on his shoulder. 'Don't believe what he says about you. You're worth more than an entire planet of Potters.'

Snape sighed. 'No, I'm not. I heard what you said about me to Mary the other day.'

Lily took her hand away and let it fall at her side. 'What did I say to Mary?'

'You said you were glad that we weren't in the same House. I know she hates me, and I don't really care, but when you said that I just…'

'Yes, I'm glad I'm not in Slytherin,' Lily admitted, 'but it has nothing to do with you. I would hate to have to spend my days with the likes of Avery and Mulciber and everyone else who uses dark spells on other people as a joke. I really wish you'd be friends with people who aren't destined to become criminals.'

'Just because they want to be that way doesn't mean I will be.'

'Well, it's a pretty good indication,' Lily snapped. She took a deep breath. 'Look, I'm sorry. I'm just tired. I'll see you tomorrow.' She turned and left Snape gazing after her as she walked away.

Next, Harry was following teen Snape as he sat down next to Lily in Potions class. A younger and less rotund Slughorn was at the front of the room, but Snape and Lily were whispering amongst themselves. Harry noticed his father, Sirius, and Lupin not too far away, and James kept throwing suspicious glances back at them.

'But our OWLs are next week,' Lily said. 'We need to study, plus I said I'll help Mary study. She's having a lot of trouble with Transfiguration. Why can't we wait till after exams?'

Snape sighed. 'Fine,' he said coolly, but he was clearly unhappy.

'C'mon, Sev. Don't be mad. Just one more week.'

Her green eyes bore into his, and he smiled.

The scene changed again.

'I told you not to come near me again!' Lily said dangerously. 'I mean it, Severus. Leave me alone. Don't follow me, don't talk to me. Just pretend I'm not here.'

'I can't do that,' he said, advancing in her. 'I told you I'm sorry. It was an accident. Please…'

'How can you stand there and ask for my forgiveness? Do you have any idea how much you hurt me?' she said, her tears barely concealed by the anger in her voice.

'Lily, please. I'll do anything to make it better. Please, give me another chance.'

Snape fell to his knees in front of her. 'Please,' he begged, his glassy black eyes pleading for mercy.

For a moment, Lily seemed to consider him. But she closed her eyes, streams of tears running down her cheeks. 'There's nothing you can do. I don't even know you anymore. What happened to that sweet little boy you used to be?' Silence ensued for a moment before she said, 'Please don't make this any harder than it already is. Don't follow me. Just forget me, okay?'

With that, she left Snape on the stone floor of a deserted hallway. Harry watched as everything good in Snape's life disappeared around the bend. Harry heard adult Snape behind him, fighting his emotion with little success.

A new memory materialized around them. Snape was sitting at the Slytherin table, watching as Lily sat down beside James at the Gryffindor table. Then, several quick flashes of James and Lily passed by in rapid succession. They appeared happy and completely unaware of Snape's presence.

The flashes ended and they were now standing in Kings Cross at the end of their seventh year. James and Lily stood a short distance away. Snape stood on the platform alone and watched them. James picked up his trunk and waved to his mother, and Lily's eyes met Snape's for a moment. Her smile faded, and was replaced by sadness. Then, their gaze was broken, and she followed James, disappearing into the crowd. Snape looked around for his mother, but she was nowhere in sight.

They entered a new, much more recent memory. This time, Snape was sitting in Dumbledore's office, looking dejected. 'How can you not have some feelings for the boy?' Dumbledore asked. 'He is all that's left of Lily. And even though you refuse to see it, he is more like her than his father.'

Snape rubbed his temples. 'I do care about him. But I've lived long enough with my grief to know that caring is the forerunner of pain, and if you don't mind, I do not wish to experience any more of it if I can avoid it.'

Dumbledore smiled. 'You admit you care about Harry?'

'Of course I do. Ever since I found out Lily was pregnant I wished he was –'

'Yes, Severus?'

Snape looked highly embarrassed and sat in silence for several moments. 'I see him and I want so badly for him to be my son, not the son of that idiot Potter. Do you have any idea what that's like to spend your life wanting something you just cannot have?'

Dumbledore steepled his fingers and dropped his gaze. 'More acutely than you'd probably believe.'

'If there was any justice he would be mine.'

'If you care about him, why do continue to treat him the way you do?' Dumbledore asked.

'Because he's a constant reminder of my mistakes!' Snape spat bitterly. 'Surely you could have come to that conclusion. He exists because I couldn't keep my mouth shut. He exists because I didn't listen to Lily's warnings about being associated with the wrong people. He exists because I let her walk away from me!' Snape stood up and threw the chair he had been sitting in against the wall.

'While you cannot be Harry's father,' Dumbledore said calmly, 'your actions throughout the years to ensure his safety are nothing less than any man worthy of being a father would do for his own son.'

Snape sighed. 'It doesn't matter. He hates me, and as long as he is unaware of how I truly feel, I can live with his hatred.'

With that, Harry felt himself being lifted from the mist and found himself back in Snape's classroom.

Harry sat down at a desk, his mind reeling with new memories. Without a word, Snape began replacing his memories into his own mind. Of all the things Harry had just witnessed, the last memory seemed to have had the biggest effect on him, probably because it was the last thing he expected to see.

'Sir,' Harry began tentatively, but he was unsure of what to say. It was an awkward moment before be finally said, 'Thank you.'

'You got what you wanted, Potter,' he said sharply. 'Now if that is all, I have nothing more to say.'

Harry left the room and returned to Gryffindor tower. He had gone to Snape in hopes of learning more about his mother, and while Snape given him that, he had really shown Harry more of himself than anything. And in the end, Harry was grateful.

After settling into bed for the night, an interesting idea crept into this mind, and he fell asleep with a smile on his face.


	6. Ch 6: Heroes and Friends

Wow, thanks for all your positive feedback on this story! This chapter was really hard to write, but it was fun!

Not sure if I should end it here or write an epilogue or do a sequel… your input on the matter would be appreciated!

Don't flame me if my timeline is a bit messed up.

The ending is a tad Snarry. Don't say I didn't tell ya so!

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**Chapter 6 – Heroes and Friends**

The morning of November thirtieth was one punctuated by a lot of excitement. The entire school was on board the Hogwarts Express along with the faculty members to attend what was sure to be a memorable moment in wizarding history.

Harry found himself sharing a compartment with Ron, Hermione, the Headmistress, and Snape. McGonagall was busy instructing Snape and Harry where they were to go once the train arrived, but both of them were only half-listening. Harry had never seen Snape in anything other that his usual teaching attire, and to see him now, dressed in a black business-type suit, was an interesting change. If Snape felt anything close to what Harry was feeling, he was doing an amazing job of hiding it. Harry alternated between the desire to faint and the urge to be sick, but Snape seemed calm, and focused his attention on the countryside as it sped by the windows. Harry watched him for a moment, and wondered how on earth he was going to tell his story without bringing Lily into it.

--

The moment came all too soon when he found himself standing beside Snape behind a temporary stage that had been erected in front of the Ministry. The noise that was issuing from the street was what really hit home the fact that this was no small event, and all the press attention, unwelcome as it was, was not yet over.

People rushed around, from Ministry officials to Muggle control officers, as both Harry and Snape waited to be called on stage. Reporters were struggling to get past security checkpoints.

'So, this is it,' Harry said, trying to diffuse some of the tension.

'It seems so,' Snape replied without looking at Harry.

Suddenly a stout man ran up to them, holding a scroll of parchment in one hand.

'Pardon me, Mr. Snape, Mr. Potter. I have been sent by the Minister to inform you that immediately after your speeches, there will be a brief question period in which various reporters and citizens will ask queries. Just stay on stage once you are finished.'

Just as quickly as he appeared, he vanished. Harry gazed to Snape and muttered, 'Great.' Snape, too, was not impressed.

The magnified voice of the Minister filled the air, and a hush fell upon the crowd. 'Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of the Ministry, and myself, welcome to what I am sure will be a fascinating morning. Before we get started, I would like to inform you of a slight change. Once the speeches are completed, Mr. Severus Snape and Mr. Harry Potter will be answering questions from the audience. So, if you have a question, please stand up and wait for permission to submit your inquiry. Without further ado, please welcome our true heroes, Mr. Severus Snape and Mr. Harry Potter.'

A deafening chorus of applause, shouts, and whistles rang out from the street. A young stage helper guided Harry and Snape through a curtain and up a set of stairs, which led onto the stage.

Neither one could believe the sight that met them. People of all ages and all walks of life were gathered as far as the eye could see. The street had been magically widened and Harry was immediately reminded of the stadium where he had watched the Quidditch world cup the summer before his fourth year. People were even standing on the roofs of buildings and mounted on various levels of staging. As they approached center stage, Harry wondered what kind of charms had been cast to keep Muggles from seeing such an event.

Harry stood beside Snape and looked out on the sea of faces, all of them were smiling, some were crying, and some girls that Harry recognized from school were flying banners. Harry smiled and waved to them. This wasn't quite as bad as he imagined it would be. He was used to being cheered on during Quidditch games, and comparing this moment to Quidditch made it feel much more bearable. But then, he thought of Snape, who was not accustomed to any attention. This was probably quite hard on him.

After what seemed like forever, the crowd finally settled down. Two stage helpers emerged, one carrying a podium and the other a chair. After placing them on the stage, they disappeared.

The Minister spoke, his wand pointed at his throat. 'Thank you so much for being here today.' He shook their hands. 'I think I speak for everyone here that we are forever in your debt for your courage in the face of opposition and death. We are truly honoured to be in your presence.'

Cheers rose up again, and once silence was restored, the Minister said, 'I would like to ask if Mr. Snape could please step over to the podium and I'll ask Mr. Potter to take the seat to the right.'

Both took their places, but before they parted, Harry patted Snape on the back without really thinking about what he was doing. He wanted to know that he supported him.

Harry sat down, eager to hear what Snape had to say.

Snape folded his hands on the podium. And without taking any parchment from his pockets, he began to speak in a strong and steady voice.

'Good morning. Many of you know me as a professor, and probably not a very pleasant one at that. Maybe you know me only from the handful of news articles that have appeared in the Daily Prophet during the past year. I have been asked to speak to your today about my role as a spy and my efforts to undermine Voldemort, but I do not come here to boast or to pretend I am something I am not. I do not consider myself a hero or a figure to be praised. My actions harmed as many people has they helped.'

Snape cleared his throat before continuing. 'I spent the better portion of 4 years between the ages of 17 and 21 in the employ of Lord Voldemort during his first rise to power. However, there soon came a time when I realized that I no longer shared his vision or supported his choices. I knew as well as anyone that once enlisted into subservience to Voldemort, one either remains faithful or dies. In my desperation I sought the counsel of Albus Dumbledore, who gave me a job teaching at Hogwarts. Voldemort believed I was there as his spy, when in actuality, I became a spy for Dumbledore in exchange for his protection from retribution, and, later on, for my services in protecting Harry Potter, the only person known to survive the Killing Curse, whom Dumbledore believed would one day hold they key to destroying Voldemort.

'Very soon after my appointment at Hogwarts, Voldemort vanished, and while most believed him to be dead, Dumbledore was convinced he would one day return, and thirteen years later, he resurfaced, and I was faced with a terrible truth – I had to give the impression I still supported him. In order not to arouse suspicion within the castle, I remained behind when the Dark Mark burned, returning only to his side once Dumbledore told me it was time.' Snape paused for a moment. 'Voldemort was not pleased with me. Without giving me a chance to explain, I was repeatedly subjected to several rounds of torture for not immediately returning to his side.'

Harry watched as the faces in the crowd showed shock and disbelief. He had never known about Snape being tortured. The thought had never even occurred to him.

Snape continued. 'Finally, he let me speak. From that moment on, I survived only by feeding Voldemort seemingly important information or by outright lying to him. I quickly rose through the ranks of the Death Eaters during the next year, trying to earn his trust without raising suspicion regarding my true motivations. He would often praise me, which was never an honour. For three years I lived a double life and Dumbledore was the only other person who was aware of it.

'Finally, there came a time when Voldemort planned remove Dumbledore from the picture, which he believed would allow him full access to Harry Potter. The task was given to Draco Malfoy, one of my students and the newest member of the Death Eaters. But Voldemort only gave him this impossible task so he could watch him fail, in which case, the task of Dumbledore's murder fell to me.'

Several people began whispering to each other in the crowd.

'I do not pretend to understand Dumbledore, but he insisted that I go ahead with the plan in order to preserve my cover as a Death Eater and to spare Draco from Voldemort's wrath. Sadly, I carried out his request, and no one regrets it more than I.'

Snape paused, and Harry was surprised at the amount of emotion in his speech.

'Before long, Voldemort had seized power of Hogwarts and the Ministry, and he appointed me as Headmaster, and under different circumstances, I would have welcomed the position with great honour. However, the position did give me the advantage of being able to control just how much terror the students were subjected to. While I am sure they will all say that it was the worst year of their school careers, let me assure them that it could have been much worse.

'But one man can only do so much. There are many others who should be standing here in my place – people who gave their lives fighting for a peaceful society, which they will sadly never see, and people who died for no reason – some simply for being muggleborn.

'I believe it is important for everyone to remember those who perished so that we can stand here today, free from the threat of a tyrant who has plagued us with his hatred and caused us pain and fear for so many years. Do not let the memories of those you loved and lost fade into the mists of time and do not abuse your freedom, for then their deaths are vanity.'

The crowd cheered, and Snape continued once they fell silent.

'Before his death, Dumbledore gave me the unpleasant task of informing Mr. Potter that in order for Voldemort to truly die, he, too would have to die. This caused me a great deal of grief, believe it or not, since part of my job as Dumbledore's spy was to preserve his life and ensure his safety, since he was believed to be the only one who could kill Voldemort. Harry had been on the run for several months, and when I heard that he had returned, I tried to seek him out, to tell him the dreadful news. But before I had the chance, the other staff members united against me and Voldemort summoned me away from the battle. Little did I know he intended to kill me to gain power over the wand he had stolen from Dumbledore's grave. It is a story to which I have very few details, so it did not – and still does not – make sense to me.

'He ordered his snake to bite me, which it did, and as soon as Voldemort left the room, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger emerged from a hidden passageway. Believing I was dying, I gave to Harry a memory which contained the information he needed. And Miss Granger managed to do enough for me to save me until I could be delivered to the school matron.'

Snape's eyes searched the crowd, and his eyes fell upon Hermione near the front.

'I would like to thank you, Miss Granger, for saving my life.'

The crowd cheered again, and Hermione began to cry as she smiled up at Snape. Ron put his arm around her.

'And I would like to express my gratitude to Mr. Harry Potter,' Snape said, turning to face Harry, 'for defending me before the Wizengamot this past summer, which resulted in the dismissal of the charges against me as well as the avoidance of Azkaban and a possible death sentence.'

More cheers went up from the masses. Snape smiled at Harry, and he too, smiled back.

'Lastly, I would like to say that, while it does not change the past, I am truly sorry for my decision to join Voldemort in the first place. Someone whom I loved more than anything was murdered by Voldemort as a direct result of my poor decision. There is no glory in taking another person's life or in the acquisition of power used to enslave others. There is no purpose in separating Muggle from Wizard, and there is no shame in being a cross of the two. Celebrate your lives and your freedom, and, as Dumbledore adamantly believed, there is no purpose in our lives if we do not love. So love each other, because it is here, and only here, that we find beauty and ultimately, ourselves.'

Snape stepped away from the podium to a standing ovation. Everyone cheered and clapped, and a group in the back sent up fireworks with their wands, and several others joined in. Harry stood up and clapped as well, his eyes flooded with tears. Harry extended a hand to Snape, who hesitated only a moment, and both men shook hands. Snape sat in the chair Harry had vacated, and Harry stepped up to the podium to a warm welcome from the crowd. He waved to Ron and Hermione.

Harry smiled as he waited for silence to fall, and took the opportunity to arrange his cue cards in front of him. Plus, he had drastically revised his speech from what he had prepared with Snape, and was partially worried that his next public appearance might be in a casket.

'Thank you,' he said as the crowd began to settle. 'My story is one that has plagued the media for a long time, and I do not wish to rehash it here today. While I never knew I was a wizard or anything about Voldemort until I turned eleven, there isn't a moment in my life that hasn't been affected by him. I am an orphan because of him, and I never knew my mum or dad. I only know them through those who knew them.

'In truth, I am not special. I posed no real threat to Voldemort. I survived his attempt to murder me as a child because of my mother. She died standing between us, begging for him to spare me. She died because she loved me enough to die in my place. Her love was the real threat to Voldemort. Her heart and her goodness were things Voldemort could not understand, and her sacrifice protected me, which robbed Voldemort of his power and his body for thirteen years.

'I must say that becoming part of the wizarding world resulted in some of the best – and worst – times of my life. I finally truly felt like I belonged somewhere, and I made many new friends. But with the good comes the bad, and I made many enemies as well. I was an obvious target for the children of Death Eaters, the media, and for less obvious reasons, one teacher in particular. Aside from Voldemort himself, I believed the greatest threat to my safety was Professor Snape, who, for reasons I could never figure out, seemed to hate me more than any other student.'

Snape was growing rather worried as to where Harry was going with this thread of thought, as they had not discussed this in their meetings.

'But, upon reflection, he had good reason to be a tyrant to me, and to anyone, really. I do not envy what he had to endure for my sake, and the sake of all he fought to protect. If I were in his place, I do not know if I could show such strength in the face of what seemed like impossible odds. His life was on the line at every moment, and, as he has just said, someone he loved died at the hands of Voldemort, and he holds himself responsible for it. I speak now to both his current and former students – put yourself in his position, and imagine yourself trying to lead a seemingly normal life while carrying such a burden in your heart.

'In learning the truth about the reformed Death Eater, I have learned some very important things. First of all, while I have no idea what it is like to be faced with the choices Severus Snape has had to make, I am grateful that he was able to uphold his loyalties to Dumbledore and to the Order. His work as a spy and his sacrifices of time, comfort, peace, and freedom have been invaluable. Secondly, he is living proof that people can change, and is a reminder that we should not judge others before we know who they really are.

'It was inside one of Professor Snape's memories that I learned the truth about myself as well. Upon Voldemort's return three years ago, I learned that my infamous scar was a direct link to Voldemort's mind, which, as horrible as it was, also served as a form of protection for me. It gave us something in common, which, in a sense, made us equals. Of course, I later learned that my scar was really the result of having accidentally become a refuge for a fragment of Voldemort's soul.'

There was a collective gasp from the crowd.

'Rest assured, it is gone, along with the rest of him. It is for this reason I was supposed to die by Voldemort. Dumbledore knew I had to seek him out, believing I would be seeking out my own demise. But really, his Curse only killed the part of him that was in me, and at last, he was mortal.

'I want to point out that I did not kill Voldemort. Had it not been for Dumbledore's amazing insight into the way Voldemort's mind works, his incredible understanding of the power of love, and for Professor Snape's unwavering loyalty and trust to Dumbledore, a highly complicated series of events would have turned out very differently. Voldemort inadvertently killed himself as he attempted to kill me. Just as my mother's sacrifice caused the Killing Curse to rebound upon him 17 years ago, he, again, was struck-down by his own ignorance. Dumbledore always believed that he was his own worst enemy, and though I did not believe him until the very end, he was right.'

The crowd cheered for Harry. Hermione was teary-eyed, and Ron beamed up at him.

Once the noise subsided, Harry continued. 'There are many people to whom I owe my very existence. My father, James Potter, who didn't stand a chance as he rushed into the night to defend his family. Albus Dumbledore, who taught me so much about Voldemort, and protected me from him and his followers. The entire Order of the Phoenix, many of whom are no longer with us. My godfather, Sirius Black, who was never a Death Eater. The entire faculty of Hogwarts. The Weasley family. My best friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Even my aunt and uncle who grudgingly agreed to raise me for ten years. And I know there are many more.'

Harry was about to continue when everyone decided to cheer again.

'But there are two people to whom I owe everything. My mother, Lily Potter, who gave her life so I could live, and Professor Severus Snape, who faced death and things far worse so that I could live.' He turned his head and looked at Snape. 'Thank you sir.'

Harry wiped a tear from his eye as the masses went wild again.

'I'd like to leave you by reminding you of what Professor Snape said. Life is a celebration, and we all have so much to be thankful for. Love each other, be kind, laugh, and forgive. Enjoy the little things, and remember those who died so that we can all live in freedom and happiness, in a world without Lord Voldemort.'

Harry stepped away from the podium and stood beside Snape. Harry, too, received a standing ovation along with a display of fireworks. The Minister appeared again on center stage, and a stage helper brought out a second chair for Harry.

When everyone finally resumed their seats, the Minister spoke. 'Thank you so much to these brave men for so willingly sharing their struggles and triumphs with us today.'

A small man appeared holding a blue velvet cushion with golden embroidery. Two medals rested atop it, and the man stood beside the Minister.

'Before we open up the stage for questions, it is my honour to present these men with the Order of Merlin, First Class, for their services to ensure the welfare and well-being of the wizarding world by defeating Lord Voldemort.'

The chorus of cheers that rose up this time made all the pervious displays pale in comparison. Harry and Snape came forward to receive their medals and shook hands with the Minister. Flash bulbs were going off everywhere.

'I would ask that you both step behind the podium and we'll get this question period underway.'

They obliged.

'If you have a question for either of these men, please stand up and you will be called upon,' the Minister said.

Nearly half the people present rose to their feet. The Minister called upon a stout witch a few rows back.

'My question is for Mr. Snape. What was your motivation in joining the Death Eaters?'

'I assure you, I have no justifiable answer. Sheer stupidity is as close as I can come to defending my choice.'

A man near the back spoke next. 'Harry, when did you learn that your professor was an ex-Death Eater?'

Harry quickly trawled back through his memory. 'I learned that he was a Death Eater in my fourth year. Up until late May of this year, I believed he was still a Death Eater who had somehow fooled Dumbledore into trusting him.'

The Minister pointed to another man holding a quill and a scroll of parchment. 'Mr. Snape, given your lengthy history with Dumbledore, can you shed any light on the accuracy of the statements made in Rita Skeeter's latest book, "The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore"?'

'I have not read the book, nor to I intend to, therefore I cannot confirm or discredit any of her statements.' Snape, however, spoke in such a way that clearly conveyed he had a very firm opinion of the book even though he hadn't read it.

Next a woman spoke. 'My question is for Mr. Snape as well. At any point during the war were you tempted to abandon your position as spy for Dumbledore and rejoin Voldemort?'

'Never,' Snape replied simply.

'My question is for Harry,' said a young woman he recognized from school. 'How did you feel upon learning that Professor Snape was looking out for you and projecting you from Voldemort?'

Harry cleared his throat. 'Initially, I was absolutely shocked, given our history and my belief that he was still a Death Eater. I never would have considered it a possibility.'

'Mr. Snape, how did you manage to betray Voldemort without being detected?' asked a middle-aged man off to the right.

Snape shifted his weight as he began to speak. 'A fair number of Death Eaters tried to convince him that I was a traitor. However, Lord Voldemort was a highly skilled Legilimens, and while I allowed him to perform the spell on me at any time, I actively employed Occlumency against him, and concealed my true loyalties as well as highly sensitive information regarding the Order and Harry Potter.'

'Harry, is it true you are a Parselmouth?' asked a woman wearing a ridiculous hat.

Harry smiled. 'Since I no longer possess a piece of Voldemort's soul, I no longer have that ability.'

Several more questions ensued, from what their plans were for the future, to whether or not they thought the Chudley Cannons would never win the Cup.

'One final question,' said the Minister. He pointed to a young woman with long blonde hair.

'Mr. Snape, who was the person you loved, why did she die, and why do you consider yourself the reason for her death?'

Every eye was on Snape, and the silence was so complete that a pin drop could have been heard. Harry looked to Snape, who seemed to be deflated by such a direct question. After many moments, Snape spoke. 'She was a woman who was, at one point a long time ago, a very dear friend. As for why I consider myself responsible for her death, I would rather not say. As to why she died, I consider it a grave disservice to her memory to divulge those details.'

Harry smiled.

'Well, that's all the time we have. Thank you once again for being with us today,' the Minister said as he shook their hands. 'It has been an honour and a pleasure.'

The crowd stood up and applauded again as Harry and Snape were ushered off stage. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. 'I'm so glad that's over,' he said.

Snape glared at him. 'You're not alone in your sentiment.'

Ron and Hermione soon joined them, giving him a hug.

'Well done, mate!' said Ron, giving Harry a friendly slap on the back.

Headmistress McGonagall soon arrived as well. 'I think we should all go out to Chez Cadence. My treat.'

'What's that?' asked Ron.

'A nice quiet little café here in London.'

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all eager. 'What do you say, Severus?' asked McGonagall. 'I've already asked Filius to see the other students back without us.'

Snape's expression remained blank. 'Then it would appear I have little choice.'

--

After escaping a barrage of reporters and photographers, soon they were all sitting in a quaint café that smelled strongly of vanilla and cocoa beans. Each had placed an order and were sitting in a booth near the window.

'I do believe the morning was a complete success,' said McGonagall cheerfully.

Snape did not respond, but the other three agreed. They all sat together for nearly an hour when finally, Snape said that it was time they should be getting back.

--

Later that evening, Harry was on his way down to Snape's dungeon after receiving a note from him. He knocked on the door and sharp voice said, 'Enter'.

Harry found Snape at his desk, and he sat down as well.

Snape did not look to him or speak to him for several moments. Suddenly, he asked, 'Why did you not deliver the speech you had prepared?' his tone was more inquisitive than angry.

'Well, people don't need to hear any more about the facts of my life. I don't think I said anything that was out of line that implicated you with my mum.'

'You came very close, Potter,' he said.

'You did as well, sir. You said some things I never expected you to say.'

Snape was silent for a moment. 'While I nearly had heart failure during your speech, it turned out to be an improvement on what you had prepared before.'

Harry smiled. 'I'm glad you approve.' Harry dropped his gaze. 'You weren't entirely honest though, were you?'

'I'm pathetic enough as it is, Potter,' Snape said, his voice filled with defeat. 'What I said today is close enough to the truth without bringing the real reason into full view.'

'You're not pathetic,' Harry said. 'Voldemort was pathetic.'

Snape nodded his head. 'Yes, he was.'

Harry began to pick absently at his cuff. 'Sir, I have a question, and no one else that I have asked has given me a satisfying answer.'

'I cannot guarantee you I can do any better, but go ahead,' Snape said.

'After seeing your memories with my mother, and seeing how you both hated my dad, how did they…you know… end up married?'

Snape's jaw twitched, and a shadow of something painful drifted before his eyes. 'I believe I am at fault for that as well. She never forgave me for what I did to her, and Potter knew she was upset by it. Over time, he twisted the situation to his advantage. He stopped harassing me and everyone else and focused all his attention on convincing Lily he was what she needed, and by all appearances, it looks like he succeeded.' Snape sighed and stared at the floor.

Silence ensued for a long moment, and as they shared that moment of Snape's grief, Harry felt something change between them. It was subtle and abstract, but it was intense and overwhelming to the point that Harry began to sob uncontrollably. Ashamed of himself, he hid his face.

'Potter? Are you alright?' Snape asked, forgetting his sorrow as he expressed concern for the weeping boy.

Harry did not answer.

Snape, not really knowing what to do, stood up and cautiously approached Harry. He tentatively placed a thin pale hand on his shoulder to reassure him. 'Don't cry, Potter,' he said gently. Remembering how Harry had comforted him a few weeks earlier, he put his arms around Harry and held him close. Harry willingly leaned into him but still continued to cry.

'Look at me,' Snape said. Harry, wiping his eyes, tilted his head up to look at his professor. Lily's brilliant green eyes stared back at him, glittering with tears, and he felt a painful swooping sensation in his stomach. He brought a hand to Harry's smooth face and wiped away his tears. 'Don't cry, Po… Harry. Your tears are like rain that drowns me in sadness.'

Harry continued to gaze up at him, realizing that Snape had just told him the same thing he had once told his mother. Harry knew that when Snape looked at him, he saw someone he loved. And now, Harry was beginning to feel the same way.

Without considering Snape's reaction or the implications of what he was doing, he craned his neck up and his lips met with Snape's. He saw the look of shock and fear in his eyes, but he did not push him away. It only lasted a few seconds, and Harry finally pulled back.

'I'm sorry,' he said.

Snape didn't respond.

'I think I need to get some sleep,' Harry said, rubbing his red eyes. 'It's been a weird day.' Harry stood up, and Snape back away a bit. 'I have one more thing I would like to say before I go.'

Snape waved his hand to indicate him to go on.

'I've been thinking a lot about that last memory you showed me a few days ago.'

Snape narrowed his eyes, but did not interrupt. He seemed temporarily mesmerized.

'I'm a bit too old to need a father,' Harry said. 'But I'll never be too old for a friend.'

Harry left Snape standing in stunned silence. Snape smiled, and just as Harry's footsteps faded into the distance, a single tear slid down Snape's pale skin and fell to the floor.


End file.
